The Price of Life
by Scarlet Darkness
Summary: Legolas has been found bleeding and unconscious in the borders of Imladris, but how did he get into such a dire state? Then a visitor enters Imladris, causing major chaos and uproar Rated M for violence. Not mary-sue/slash etc.
1. 1 A New Beginning

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this story are mine apart from the ones which do not appear in any of the works by J.R.R Tolkien. This piece of writing has not been made with the intention of making any money or replacing/amending any of Tolkien's works.

**Author's Note:** I'm back! It's been over 5 years since I wrote my first fic under the pen-name of Crimson Regret. Due to problems, I had to change this pen-name, and am now Scarlet Darkness. Please feel free to read my first fic, Hidden Truth, and its sequel, What Tomorrow Brings, but neither of these need to be read in order to make sense of this new story…

**Chapter 1**

The Elf's breath was slow and even under the influence of the herbs given to send him into a deep sleep. When in this state, his close friends were told he could feel no pain and would not wake until his body had healed considerably. The Prince's best friend, a Human by the Elvish name of Estel, sat by his bedside. The dark-haired Man was sitting forwards, his hand encircling that of the wounded Elf, desperately wishing that this simple action would provide the injured being with some relief. The young Human's mind was elsewhere, though, as he strived to decipher exactly what had transpired to cause the Prince to be found, by one of the Rivendell patrols, seriously injured and unconscious in the woods surrounding the Elven haven.

There was something amiss though, but Estel could not place it. The injuries sustained by Mirkwood's Prince were not unlike others he had seen before; grievous indeed, but not unusual. And yet the Ranger still had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that Legolas had been the victim of something other than a typical Orc attack. And that was when it hit him like a blow from a Cave Troll.

"Ada, these injuries, do you not think they are … different somehow?" Estel asked, his grey eyes sparkling with the potential discovery.

"I understand where you are going with this, _ion-nin_. And yes, I do believe that Legolas' wounds are not those dealt by any Orc weapon. Indeed, the weapon or weapons which caused them may not have even been held in the hands of an Orc." Elrond said, his own eyes twinkling as he realised that he had been reading his son's mind, according to Estel's surprised, open-mouthed expression.

"I will never understand how you do that, Ada." The young Man said, shaking his head.

After a while of thinking, supposing, and assuming, Estel returned his gaze to his friend. The Prince's golden hair was brushed away from his sweat-soaked skin by the hand of the greatest healer in Middle Earth. Lord Elrond of Rivendell looked over the Elf in his care, checking his breathing and pulse as he had done repeatedly over the hours which had passed following the Elf's arrival.

Estel had been fostered by the great Lord after becoming an orphan at a very young age, and during his childhood had been taught in detail about the art of healing. But even with this knowledge, the young Man still found himself to be helpless when faced with the injuries sustained by his best friend.

Father and son shared a concerned, but relieved, glance as the Elf's persistent fever had finally broken. Days of lukewarm baths, cooling cloths and wrapping with woollen blankets had eventually proven to be a cure to the archer's fevered state. Elrond had given the Elf Prince the sleeping herbs to combat the horrific delusions, nightmares, pain, and tremors that Legolas had suffered, causing him to aggravate his existing injuries and rendering him exhausted.

Despite the news that Legolas' fever had broken, Elrond and Estel still worried desperately about the condition of Mirkwood's Prince. The injuries suffered in the attack were extensive and he had lost a lot of blood before being found unconscious and brought to the Houses of Healing. During these days of intense care, the Prince had not once properly awoken. The words he spoke were ones of delusion and, most of the time, indecipherable or nonsense. And so it remained that the Peredhil family could only guess at the events which had occurred to leave Legolas so close to the doors of Mandos' Halls.

"Come, Estel, let us change the bed sheets now that the fever has broken. It will do him no good to be lying on a damp bed." Elrond spoke softly, placing one strong hand onto the shoulder of his foster-son. Estel merely turned his head slightly, nodding. The pair were swift in the process of changing the sheets, having had to do this many-a-time during the care and treatment of others. This time was no different apart from the fact that it was Legolas who lay greatly injured.

Elrond placed his hands under uninjured parts of the young Elf's torso and gently sat him into a more upright position. Supporting Legolas in this way allowed Estel to pull the old sheet down towards Legolas' legs and place the top of a clean sheet into position. Having done this, Elrond lifted the Prince's legs and the process was repeated. Replacing a sheet in this way allowed for the injured to remain atop the bed and eliminated the need to call in extra hands to aid in fully lifting a patient.


	2. 2 Prized Discoveries

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this story are mine apart from the ones which do not appear in any of the works by J.R.R Tolkien. This piece of writing has not been made with the intention of making any money or replacing/amending any of Tolkien's works.

**Author's Note:** It's great to be back writing again. Sorry for the delay in posting this second chapter, life is hectic right now, but I'm getting there… A MASSIVE thanks to those who reviewed – all reviews will be replied to. Please, if you are going to review with criticism (which is fine), please only comment on the structure or grammar of the story. If you don't like the actual storyline – don't read the story!! :-)

**Chapter 2**

Rapid but light footsteps in the corridor some time later signalled the imminent arrival of a servant Elf. This small action brought slight annoyance to the healer, as it had been ruled that there would be no such noise or disruption in the corridors of the Healing Wing. The door to the healing room was rapidly thrown open, and in the doorway stood Darmuil, one of the servants of the House, looking extremely panicked and breathing heavily. Elrond's annoyance dissipated immediately on seeing the normally calm Elf in such a state.

"Lord Elrond, I … apologies … he …dead …" The Elf stuttered but was quickly cut off by being blown roughly out of the way by an unseen assailant. Darmuil's unconscious body slammed into a nearby wall and slumped to the floor in an uncomfortable heap. Elrond and Estel exchanged glances before the Ranger moved slowly towards the now vacant door, a hand immediately seeking the pommel of his sword.

With a flash of white fabric, the enemy appeared, staff raised and pointing at the Ranger's heart.

"Make not another move, Human." Saruman spoke in a tone laced with venom. Orcs flanked him on all sides and moved stealthily into the room, threatening the Elven Lord with their stained and crudely-made weapons. Neither father nor son made a move against the enemy, knowing perfectly that they were no match for a wizard whose power was so intense it could not be spoken in words of any language.

"Ah, Lord Elrond, just who I wished to meet." The White Wizard stepped proudly into the room, leaving his minions to restrain the two captives if it were necessary. The Wizard stopped suddenly, though, on seeing another Elf, lying motionless on the bed, previously unseen. "But what is this? I have unknowingly captured none other than the Prince of Mirkwood; a more valuable prize than yourself, Elrond. Now I not only have control over Rivendell, but of Mirkwood, too."

"You do not have control over Mirkwood yet, Saruman! And neither will you ever have that control!" Estel blurted out without thinking, drawing a look from his foster-father.

Saruman glared at the young Man, furious at being argued with. But the look of fury slowly changed to one of an evil happiness. "Why you are right, Ranger, I do not have control over Mirkwood. But what you forget is that I have control over its Prince, and I have many ways and means of gathering the relevant information, none of which will be enjoyable for him."

The Wizard made towards the unconscious Prince, drawing movement from both Elrond and Estel. The Ranger made to move towards his best friend, but was stopped by the clanging of metal on metal as two Orcs brought their scimitars to meet in front of him, blocking his path and drawing the attention of the magical being standing over the Prince.

"Now, now, little Human, I wouldn't want your brash actions to be the downfall of your friend here." Saruman looked from the Ranger to the Healer, smiling snidely as he noted the expressions decorating his captives' faces. "But, I cannot do anything productive with the little Prince while he sleeps. Wake him."

Elrond started at that last statement, unbelieving at what had been ordered of him. "I cannot perform this action. The Prince will only wake when his body has healed enough."

"Elrond, you are proclaimed to be the best Healer in this Earth, and you tell me you cannot wake an Elf. Now, surely you have the power or herbs to do so, but if not, I am sure I could wake him myself, but I can assure you, it will not be pleasant for either of you." Saruman shrugged as he spoke, raising his staff slightly.

The Healer, on hearing this, protested immediately. "Do not cast your magic upon him! I have something that will wake him, but I must go and collect an ingredient from my storeroom."

"You will go and collect your ingredient, but to make sure nothing goes against your word, some of my Orcs will accompany you." The Wizard motioned to a few of his followers, and the small party left the room, father and son sharing another look.

The Healer was gone only moments, as the storeroom was just a few doors down the corridor. He gathered the items he would need and was escorted back to the room where the Prince lay unconscious.

"Saruman, there are risks on waking someone from this type of sleep. He has already been injured extensively, and this could make things much worse. If I wake him too quickly, there could be brain damage, or at worst, death." Elrond spoke quickly, trying to make the Wizard understand exactly the implications if something were to go wrong. It also served as way to try and get him to change his mind.

"Elrond, wake him up, but if you cause any further harm to him, you may well find yourself in a very bad situation. Bear in mind that I have every Elf in this realm under my control, including this Human, and your twin sons." Saruman spoke slowly, letting every bit of information sink in…


	3. 3 An Unfamiliar Awakening

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this story are mine apart from the ones which do not appear in any of the works by J.R.R Tolkien. This piece of writing has not been made with the intention of making any money or replacing/amending any of Tolkien's works.

**Chapter 3**

Elrond sighed softly in the realisation that he was not going to win this battle of wills. The Prince would have to be brought out of his herb-induced sleep if they did not wish him to be forcibly woken by the darkened sorcerer's magic. The Elven Lord moved slowly to a worktable, doing everything in his power to delay proceedings even slightly, and began crushing the plant he held lightly in his hand. Mixing it with plenty of water, he took a cloth and the bowl containing the mixture over to the unconscious Elf, and carefully sat on the edge of the bed.

"Strider, I will need your assistance for a moment." Elrond instructed, using the Man's ranger name, not wishing to give away his true identity. The Ranger moved forward as directed, momentarily forgetting the Orcs blocking his path. The metallic clang echoed around the otherwise quiet room as Estel moved to force his way past the enemy. The Orcs hesitated, looking to their master for approval before allowing the Man past.

The cloth was dipped into the watery mixture and carefully placed over the Elf's mouth and nose, forcing him to breathe it into his system. Elrond felt his own heart rate increase as thoughts of what this process could do to the Prince echoed in his mind.

"He will come round in a few minutes, and I need you to gently coax him into waking. If we go too quickly, it could well be dangerous for his health." Elrond told his foster-son. Estel nodded and sat quietly on the other side of the Prince.

As the Healer had said, a few moments later and the Prince was stirring. Eyes moved beneath their lids, and he made a few pained movements. Elrond quickly removed the cloth, and wrapped his hand around the Prince's slender wrist, checking his pulse. Estel clasped his best friend's hand, stroking the archer's forearm to try and bring him round a bit more.

Minutes more of this continued, with Elrond alternately using the cloth and checking the heart beat. The Orcs were getting restless, clanging loudly behind the pair. Saruman, getting impatient with them, ordered them away, using the Black Tongue and making Elrond cringe.

"I see haste is not something you have been taught Elrond. Much longer and I will take over, then we will see who is more effective in waking an Elf." Saruman threatened, drawing Elrond's attention.

Estel, ignoring the wizard's venomous words, leaned forward and gently spoke to the Elf in Elvish, knowing it would do more good that just using the Common Tongue. "Come back to us, Legolas. Leave the dark place behind, and follow my voice." He said, the Prince moaning in response.

"Legolas, squeeze my hand if you understand my voice." Elrond spoke in Elvish, and was rewarded with a weak, almost unnoticeable pressure on his fingers, making the older Elf wonder if he had, indeed, felt anything. "Keep your eyes closed for the moment, the Dark Wizard is present, he has taken over Rivendell. Your pain must be great just now, but I fear I cannot do anything to ease it, being under another's orders."

There was no pressure on the healer's fingers after that last sentence, and Elrond feared his patient may have suffered slight brain damage. The other option may be that everything was happening too quickly for the injured Elf, and the words hadn't been picked up properly.

Legolas' body was flooded with wave after wave of an intense pain, almost like nothing he had ever felt before. He opened his eyes, and blinked a few times, trying to focus. He found a face above him, looking worried, relieved and concerned all at the same time. Elrond leaned further over, having a closer look at his patient's condition. The younger Elf's skin was unnaturally pale, and covered with a light sheen of sweat. His breathing was shaky, the type of breath of someone in a tremendous amount of pain.

Elrond's heart felt sore as his wise eyes took in the sight in front of him. Never had he seen the Prince in such a state, and they hadn't even found out the details of the attack that lead him to be there. Legolas had been found unconscious, and had remained drifting in that state since. Only had Elrond induced the deeper sleep when Legolas began hallucinating and the healer had feared the onset of seizures. He intended to find out exactly what had happened in the woods, but that would have to wait until much later.

Saruman approached on seeing his prize had awakened. "Well, little Prince, you have finally decided to join the party. Do not worry, you have not missed anything. Now, I have waited long enough." The Orcs were summoned once more, and ordered to get the Elf up, and to take the trio to the dungeons. Legolas said nothing, but his stare said everything.

Estel pulled back the sheet, and began sitting the Prince upright. His face showed the agony he suffered, but as the enemy was there, he said nothing. Legolas allowed the Man to take his arm, and he stood up before the Orcs could touch him. It was lucky that Estel had been so close, close enough to catch Legolas as his legs buckled beneath him due to his weakened state and through lack of use.

"Ai!" The agonised cry from the Prince resounded in the room, pausing the proceedings for a second.

"Easy, mellon-nin, take it easy. Breathe through the pain." The Ranger held the Elf to his chest, and tried to calm the Elf's rapid breaths. The pain was so intense that lights danced in Legolas' vision, threatening to render him unconscious once more. The Elf was shaking violently through a mixture of blood loss and pure agony. Finally, he managed to get his legs to cooperate and he held his own weight, though he could not be sure how long he could manage it.


	4. 4 A Lost Friend

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1!!!

**Author's Note: My sincere apologies for the long delay in the posting of this chapter, I was rushed into hospital and had to stay in for a while and it has taken time for me to get things back in order. Sorry about that, but here is the next chapter… :)**

**Translations (sorry if these are inaccurate, I'm still experimenting with translations!!!):**

_Sérë_, Legolas, _nev an caita er – _Peace, Legolas, try to lie still

_Ion-nin_ – my son

_Penneth_ – little one

**Chapter 4**

Following orders, the Orcs seized hold of the three captives, dragging a hesitant Elrond out first, followed by Estel, and the stumbling Legolas brought up the rear. Estel twisted in his captors' grasp, ignoring the pain and discomfort it caused as he fought to see his friend. The injured Prince, eyes half-closed with exhaustion and agony, desperately tried to focus his mind on walking. One step, then another, then another. The Orcs holding his arms were not caring whether they walked too fast for their captive or not, and every time he stumbled, they dug their jagged and dirty claws into his already abused body, pulling another hiss of pain from his lips.

Legolas' little strength was quickly diminishing. He could hardly see through the lights and dizziness washing over his consciousness like waves upon a beach. The Elf had hardly left the threshold of the healing room before it got too much to bear and he blacked out. The Orcs, startled by their prisoner's sudden dead-weight in their hands, let the Prince's body drop. Estel turned at the sound of the Orcs surprise, just in time to see his best friend's limp body slamming into the marble flooring, where he lay unmoving. One large Orc approached the Prince, and kicked him viciously in the ribs, bringing the Elf crashing back to awareness and throwing him completely onto his back.

"Stop it! I shall carry him; he won't make it to the dungeons without aid." Estel cried, only glancing up from watching the Prince in concern. Saruman looked to be in thought for a moment, before agreeing.

"I suppose it wouldn't do to have him die on me before I have carried out my future intentions on him. I need him alive for what I have in store." The White Wizard motioned for the Ranger to carry the Elf, and Estel did so without hesitation. He knelt quickly at Legolas' side and placed a gentle hand on the Elf's pale forehead.

"_Sérë_, Legolas, _nev an caita er…_" Estel whispered, not even sure if the Elf would hear him in his time of severe pain. If, indeed, Legolas had come out of his coma without any damage to his brain…

Trying not to think too deeply about it, Estel inhaled slowly to calm his nerves and scooped the barely-conscious Elf up, one arm under his knees, the other round his upper back. Legolas cried out at the physical contact even though Estel was being as gentle as he could. The pain grew to be too much for the Elf and he, once again, passed out.

Both Elrond and Estel said and did nothing to anger their captors further on their journey to the dungeons. Their sole concern at that moment was the unconscious Prince lying in his best friend's arms. Estel's eyes narrowed slightly on feeling a new sensation on his right arm. A warm liquid was snaking from about mid-forearm and heading steadily to his elbow. The Ranger did not need anymore clues as to this discovery, he realised instantly that the liquid came from Legolas. The Elf was bleeding, and heavily too, it seemed.

Saruman brought out a large ring holding many keys. He pulled one forward and unlocked the cell. "Now, make yourselves comfortable, you will not be seeing the outside of this dungeon again." The Orcs restraining the captives threw both Man and Lord forward into the cell, and thankfully, Elrond turned to the cell door on anticipating that the Ranger may lose his footing as he held Legolas. Indeed, Estel did stumble slightly thanks to the force of the push against his back, but did not fall.

"Keep him alive, Elrond. The Prince dies, and no Elf will be left alive." Saruman threatened the Elven Lord, but Elrond was only half-listening. His concentration was on the Elf in Estel's arms.

"Estel, lay him down, as gently as you can, _ion-nin_." Elrond instructed the Ranger, as the Dark Wizard stalked back up the stone steps and away.

"Ada, he is bleeding, though I am not sure where from." Estel informed his foster-father. He hesitated before carefully kneeling and extending his arms, placing the unconscious Elf on the cold, hard floor without jarring the injured being. Despite this, Legolas, still unconscious, moved slightly as he came into contact with the cold surface.

"I fear we will have to try and bring him round again. I may have acted too quickly upstairs. Legolas seemed a bit too confused for my liking, and I need to check and make sure I caused no further damage." Elrond's voice was quiet, and he seemed as if speaking to himself, rather than to anyone else.

The Healer placed the knuckles of his index and middle fingers of his right hand against the top of the injured Elf's sternum, and rubbed firmly. As if on cue, the Elf moved slightly away from Elrond's touch. Estel looked worried. How would Legolas react if he was, indeed, brain damaged? The Ranger did not have long to wait. Seconds later, the archer opened his eyes, a look of pain and confusion written clearly in their depths. He quickly closed them again, however, as a wave of fresh pain washed over him. He felt his hand enclosed within Estel's, and he squeezed with the pain. The Ranger, however, was frightened by his friend's lack of strength. It was clear just how much pain Legolas was suffering, but his grip was like that of a newborn's.

"Legolas, take your time to wake, _penneth_." Elrond spoke quietly, not wanting to frighten the Elf, though the latter made no sign that he had even heard the Elven Lord. The Healer watched carefully as the Prince's eyes moved rapidly beneath the pale eyelids. He was prepared to give all the time he could if it meant that no further damage was caused to his patient. Finally, Legolas opened his eyes once more, and kept them open. They were glazed slightly, and he blinked often, as if trying to focus. Elrond leant forward from his position beside the Prince, and spoke again.

"Are you with us?" Elrond's voice was soft, even as it echoed against their harsh surroundings. He took the Elf's hand, trying desperately to elicit some form of contact. Legolas' eyes were open but almost unseeing, there was no familiarity within their depths and he looked neither of his companions in the eye…


	5. 5 Eventual Explanations

**Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

**Author's Note: My sincere apologies to followers of this story for the massive delays in posting. Having a lot of problems at the moment…**

**Chapter 5**

"Legolas, I need you to try and talk to us." The Healer chose his words carefully, and spoke slowly, watching the Prince all the time. The archer brought his eyes to meet those of the older Elf, confusion still gracing the fair face. It was almost as if he were as completely unfamiliar with speaking as he was with his current circumstances. "Now, what are our names?"

"El-" The Prince was suddenly and brutally wracked with coughs which shook his lithe frame, and brought small, though restrained, cries of pain from his lips. Legolas squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the severe pain in his injured body.

"Estel, help me to sit him upright, it will make his breathing easier." They took a hold under Legolas' arms and carefully, and gently, pulled him into a sitting position, bringing more pained exclamations from the Prince. Legolas was held with his back against Estel's chest, with Elrond sitting cautiously in front of him. He was held by both father and son as the muscles in his chest, back, and lungs were tortured with violent spasms.

"Easy, mellon-nin, try to relax. Breathe slowly, in, and out." Estel spoke words of comfort to the Elf, hoping that something would get through, and he would know that he wasn't suffering alone. The Ranger clasped his best friend's hand tightly with one of his own, and with the other, rubbed circles on Legolas' back, trying to ease the straining muscles.

Thankfully, moments later and Legolas had stopped coughing. His body was shaking with the aftermath of extreme effort, and his breaths were rapid and shallow, but the spasms were gone. The pair let the Elf breathe for a few minutes without moving or speaking, but Legolas, being Legolas, recovered quite quickly and soon looked to be breathing without the tremendous effort encountered before.

"Now, we will try that again, but this time, I just want a 'yes' or 'no' answer." Elrond said softly, smiling at the young Prince. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes." Legolas' answer was hesitant since he did not want to risk another coughing fit, and quiet due to lack of usage from his voice over the last few days.

"Do I have any children?" Elrond asked.

"Yes." Came the reply.

"Do you know who is holding your hand?"

A pause incurred, making Estel's heart skip a beat before Legolas answered, smiling at the Elf in front of him.

"Yes."

"Do you know where you are?"

Legolas looked around for the first time since arriving in the dungeons. His eyebrows drew closer together, and with a shake of his head, he said…

"No."

"That is to be expected. I had to wake you from a deep sleep upstairs and you were confused and drowsy." Elrond explained slowly, taking in the Prince's expression as he did so. "Saruman has taken over the Realm and all the Elves, including us. We are in the dungeons of Rivendell, under the wizard's orders. Do you understand?"

"I…understand." Legolas said, more clearly. "How long…was I…unconscious?"

"You've been unconscious for about four and a half days, but when one of the patrols found you in the forest, you were also unconscious, so I do not know the exact length of time." Elrond informed the Prince, who nodded.

"Estel…why do you…not speak?" The blonde Elf asked his best friend, who was still holding him upright.

"I am trying not to lose my patience with you, Legolas." The Prince felt Estel sigh against his back, and he was suddenly confused as to what he had done to cause the Ranger to act in such a manner.

"I do not…understand. Estel…please…what is…wrong?" Legolas asked, his breathing becoming slightly more rapid with the rise in his emotions.

"My friend, you are bleeding all over me." The Ranger laughed, lightening the situation somewhat.

"Yes, we shall have to redress your wounds, Legolas. I fear some may have reopened during the journey down here earlier. Can you sit upright for a while longer?" Elrond asked, kneeling and shifting slightly closer.

"Yes, I think so." The Prince was tiring again. His eyes were slightly glazed, and this did not go unnoticed by the great healer.

Elrond left his foster-son to support the younger Elf, while he removed the light shirt, exposing the dressings beneath. The wound on the front of Legolas' chest had reopened, the jarring on the way to the dungeons having ripped the careful stitching.

"Do you remember how you got this wound, Legolas?" Elrond asked, trying simultaneously to keep his patient awake, and find out what had happened to cause the Prince to have arrived in such a terrible state.

"I was hunting, and came across a young man who was obviously injured and in need of aid. I offered my help and he accepted readily. I thought it best to take him back to his own village, which was only a couple of leagues away. They offered me their hospitality for as long as I wished as thanks, and I stayed but a night, wanting to return to my hunting trip. I left the following morning after making sure that the young man was going to live, and once back in the forest, I was ambushed. My assailants attacked from behind and I was struck on the back of the head. I was stunned by the harsh blow which gave them the opportunity to give me this." Legolas explained, his hand travelling to indicate the wound on his torso.

"Do you know how many attacked you?" Estel asked, still holding the Prince from behind.

"Nay, though I believe that there were more than just a couple. And since I heard nothing of their approach, I do not think they were Orcs or the like." The blonde archer answered, wincing slightly as Elrond prodded a particularly tender spot.

"I have not the equipment to stitch this, penneth. You will just need to be careful." Elrond informed the Prince, binding the wound once more. Legolas nodded.


	6. 6 Business Matters

**Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

**Author's Note: Hello again! Here is a quicker update for you all to get your teeth into. So drop me a note and let me know what you think/what should be better etc…**

**Chapter 6**

A familiar sound of a key grating in a metal lock echoed around the small cell, and all three occupants tensed visibly. The torch-lit cell brightened slightly as light from the corridor spilled across the flag-stoned floor. Saruman walked purposefully into the room, flanked on both sides by Orcs, and stopped within a few feet of the captives.

"So you are finally awake." The Wizard stated, addressing the sitting Prince. "And not a moment too soon. You and I have business to attend to."

With a swift motion from the pale, skeletal hand, two Orcs stepped quickly forwards, grabbing the Prince's forearms and dragging him upwards and out of Estel's grasp. The Elf hissed with the pain of the sudden movement, but said nothing.

"Leave him!" Estel demanded, getting quickly to his feet and going after the small party. "What do you want with him?"

"You shall find out soon enough, Human." The wizard sneered at the Ranger and his foster-father as Legolas struggled and twisted against the claws digging into his flesh. His blue eyes held a look that told the Ranger not to worry, that he would be fine. The Archer's struggles were rendered useless as his weakened body was dragged away out of sight.

"Do not worry, Human, he will return in a while. Though whether it is a long while or a short one will depend solely on how cooperative your little Elf friend decides to be." The Wizard said snidely, an evil grin gracing his old features. With this, the old man re-locked the cell and walked away, his white robes trailing the floor behind him.

In the time it took for Saruman to rejoin them, Legolas had been stretched up against a wall in another cell, his wrists and ankles encircled in cold metal, effectively forcing him to keep his position. The tension in his arms, shoulders, back, and chest caused the fiery pain in his body to increase tenfold.

The Orcs abandoned the room on Saruman's entrance, leaving the two completely alone. This enlightened the Prince some, knowing that the Wizard himself was highly unlikely to beat him with his own hand. No, he was more likely to order his minions to do his dirty work for him.

Saruman walked casually over to his bound captive, stopping only millimetres from the Elf's face. They stared at one another for a long moment, neither backing down.

"Well now, little Prince. Here you are, bound and helpless to your fate. And all of your kind will slowly submit to my order, however long that may take. Now, I am willing to allow you to go free if you agree to follow and obey my orders. Do you submit?" The White Wizard asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"Never!" Legolas replied without a moment's hesitation, his dark tone thankfully not showing the weakness he currently felt. "Not now, and not ever. Torture me if that is your wish, but I will never yield to your command."

"I thought that this would be your answer." Saruman continued. "But I wonder if your father, with his people in mind, would say the same?"

"It matters not, you will never have the opportunity to ask him, for the gates of Mirkwood are closed to your kind. Only a word, with a Royal Elf to speak it will open the gates." Legolas replied, a small smile of victory on his lips.

"Well, since I have a Royal Elf here, all I need is the word. And you are going to be the one to give it to me."

"Then I am afraid that you are most disillusioned, for I shall never give up that information. You would be better killing me now, for I am of no use to you." Legolas breathed, the pain in his body almost too much to bear.

Saruman watched the ailing Elf for a few silent moments, then turned away. A small table in the corner of the room held some cloth and several bottles of clear fluid. The Wizard strode to the table, picked up a square of cloth and tipped a few drops from one of the bottles onto it. Re-approaching the Elf once more, Saruman swiftly brought the cloth up to cover the nose and mouth of the captive. Legolas tried to twist his head out of the grasp, but his movement was limited and his reflexes were slow with the pain dulling his senses.

The odour was sickeningly sweet in the Elf's nasal cavity, so much so that it made his head sore. The blue eyes were closed in pure concentration. The drug could not have been designed to render the captive unconscious as Legolas did not feel the familiar signs of light-headedness or fatigue. It was such a long time until the Prince noticed any change that he had started to wonder if this was just going to be one of the Wizard's mind games.

The chains around his wrists and ankles rubbed mercilessly and Legolas began to feel blood running down towards his shoulders from the gashes they caused.

The rough stone in the wall chaffed his bare back almost raw, the Lord Elrond not having had the time to put the light shirt back on after he had examined Legolas. The Prince noticed as everything seemed one hundred times more painful than before. Even the air in the cell seemed to crush him. This, added to all his existing injuries, nearly dragged the Elf into unconsciousness.

"What is this?" Legolas breathed through the agony threatening to engulf him. There was sweat on his brow, and the pain caused him to tremble, which did nothing to help. Every second seemed to make the pain worse. He could not tell what hurt most, he just hurt. Everywhere.

"Perhaps your Ranger friend knows. Shall we get him in and see?" Saruman asked, his voice so close that Legolas could probably have felt the breath on his face if he were not suffering so.

"Do not touch him!" Legolas tried to cry out, but his voice betrayed him by only producing a small sound, just louder than a whisper.

There was no response to the Prince's statement. No snide comment, nothing. The cell door creaked open, but through the intense pain the Elf felt, his senses were such that he could comprehend nothing more. There was just pain, nothing else seemed to get through to the tortured Prince.


End file.
